Morning Rush
by i luv ewansmile
Summary: Gregory House loves the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he rides his motorcylce but who will be there for him when he finds himself in need? Hurt!House. House/Cuddy. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Morning Rush**

_**i luv ewansmile**_

_**Summary: **_Gregory House loves the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he rides his motorcycle but who will be there for him when he finds himself in need?

Hurt!House. House/Cuddy. Complete.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Sitting on the crinkly paper of the exam table, Dr. Gregory House cradles his left arm against his chest.

Eyeing the nurse, House is sure he hasn't seen her before, or else he hit more than just his wrist when he flew off his motorcycle.

_But I was wearing my helmet, wasn't I?_

He glances over at the counter, surely enough, there rested his back pack and now tattered blazer, along with his helmet, a fresh scratch in the black paint. His cane dangled from the drawer handle.

"A doctor will be with you in a few minutes," the nurse says cheerfully as she exits the room.

House eases himself down slowly, lying in a supine position with his left knee bent comfortably.

He closes his eyes and rides out the aching throb in his thigh and the shooting sensation in his wrist.

He sighs, he can't open his vial of Vicodin with one hand, and he was in too much pain to care at the moment.

* * *

It had happened so fast, his memory of the event is a blur.

It all begin when he took a short cut, turning the roads into a puzzle, trying to figure out a new way to make it to his work.

He was well on his way to enjoying the summer sunshine and the breeze when this yellow Labrador juts out in front of him.

He knows he must have missed the dog because he doesn't remember a yelp or thump.

All he remembers is the stubbing sensation of his lift wrist as he quickly pulls himself off the asphalt and watches as his motorcycle's engine dies.

_Shit._

Adrenaline is coursing through his veins. He doesn't feel much yet, just numb from the shock.

_Damn. _He mentally curses.

He looks around. No traffic on the road but there is a woman talking on her cell phone walking on the other side of the street.

_Hey, come over here. _He thinks.

But it comes out more like, "Hayy…com-h-ow 'ova hib-ber?" He shouts.

The woman thinking he is just a drunk, speeds up her walking as she turns down the next street.

_Damn._

Looking around desperately now, he realizes he's on his own.

Realizing he has his phone with him he begins to reach for it but stops.

Gasping from the shot of pain shooting through his wrist House cries out in pain.

It's no use anyway, his cell phone is smashed.

_Who would I have called? Wilson. Ha. Away at a conference, no doubt looking for Mrs. Wilson number four._

Shaking his head, he feels the weight of his helmet. _Too heavy._

He's beginning to feel lightheaded.

This time he utters, "_Damn_."

Wiping his brow with his healthy hand House glares at his bike then slowly eases it up and throws his legs over it.

He cranks up the machine and he lets out a half a sigh, half a laugh as it roars to life.

_This is going to hurt. _

Grasping with the handle bars, the pain intensifies and he's suddenly aware of his heavy breathing and the thud of his heart in his ears.

Swallowing he tries to calm down the growing nausea.

_Okay, Greg, you can do this, just glide 'er in. _

He talks himself through the pain as he slowly and carefully makes his way to the hospital.

* * *

Cuddy returns with her cup of morning coffee as she walks through the clinic to get to her office, she catches sight of her newest employee.

A nurse who is definitely too cheerful to be a regular.

She smiles at Cuddy who realizes she's been staring at the nurse who just walked out of an exam room.

Eyeing the file in the nurse's hand, Cuddy asks, "Who's that?"

"Just some motorcyclist who fell off his bike," The new nurse informs her.

"Oh," Cuddy glances at the closed door to the exam room and doesn't notice the nurse is still talking to her until she hears the word 'cane'.

Cuddy whips her head around, "What did you say?"

The nurse looks shocked, thinking she was in trouble. She certainly was violating patient privacy, but she thought she was okay, talking to the Dean of Medicine and all.

Cuddy stares at the silent girl. Knowing she can be intimidating at times, Cuddy reassures her, "It's okay, just repeat what you said, you're not in trouble."

Breathing a sigh of relief she states again, "I didn't think he would need to be riding a motorcycle to begin with, he already uses a cane."

The young nurse is left speechless again as the Dean of Medicine takes off in the direction of the exam room, white lab coat flapping, heels clicking.

* * *

Peering into the room, not knowing what she would find, voice soft but urgent Cuddy asks, "House?"

_That was fast_. House thinks, thinking a clinic doctor was ready to see him.

_Wait, I know that voice._ He cracks one eye open to confirm and gives a half hearted sigh.

"Present." _Man, is that my voice?_ It sounded paper thin even to his own ears.

Cuddy isn't relieved at his sense of humor but is shocked to see her best doctor laid out on an exam table in her clinic.

"_House, what happened_? Are you _okay_?" She crosses the room to him and quickly switches into doctor mode.

He eyes her concerned face as she takes in the sight of him.

She notices how damp his t-shirt and hair are from sweat, the pallor of his skin and most noticeably the way he is cradling his arm to his chest, keeping it from being jostled.

Instead of saying what he was thinking, _If I was okay I wouldn't be here, _he settles for, "Motorcycle and dog, bad combination."

Seeing the look of shock on her face he continues, "Don't worry, didn't hurt the dog…didn't even hit it..." he pauses, trying to make sense of his blurry memory, "I think."

Working through the shock, Cuddy asks, "Can you sit up?"

And he does, grunting in pain. She frowns.

With gentile fingers she coaxes his left hand after from the safety of his body and slowly turns it to look at the damage done.

House hisses in pain.

"Sorry," Cuddy whispers and tries again.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it's broken."

She lays his arm in his lap, "Does anywhere else hurt?"

He stays quite but her eyes trail up his left arm, there is already shades of blues and purples, bruises around his t-shirt sleeve, and around his neck they rest hidden under his shirt.

"May I?" She gestures to his shirt.

"Don't start something you can't finish," House looks eager.

She half laughs, half smiles, as she begins taking his shirt off. His eyes stare into hers, unspoken questions, desires… but ultimately trust.

He lets her ease the shirt off slowly, careful of the hurt limb.

"If you like that you should try a little south," House winks, watching her eyes roaming across his body.

"If south looks as bad as this…you might be out of commission for a few weeks," She laughs.

"Oh, that's got to hurt," she states as her finger tips ghost across his battered chest.

The whole left side of his torso is covered in one ugly bruise, she wonders why he didn't call her, or at least go to the emergency department.

Then she remembers who she's looking at, _the man is so stubborn_, w_ell, at least he came to get himself help._

"Why didn't you call me?" She asks, hurt that he wouldn't trust her with this.

"Phone was a casualty," he states, it wasn't a lie but it wasn't a whole truth. She could tell.

"And what? You could walk to the clinic but not the next five steps to my door?"

He did, she wasn't there. She realizes this and a pang of guilt washes over her, but what he says next takes her breath away.

"I didn't want you to worry about me…" House watches her reaction out the corner of his eye.

Her words get caught in her throat, she swears these hot summer days are too humid, as moisture collects in her eyes.

Her soft eyes peer into his as she touches his chin, making him look at her.

"I always worry about you," she watches his face.

She smiles, "Every morning I walk in I'm thankful the building hasn't burnt down. But it worries me, just like when there is no crying nurses or complaining patients, I know there is something terribly wrong because Gregory House would be out there terrorizing them as long as he wasn't sick… or… or hurt," her voice cracks but she keeps on smiling.

"I'm fine." He huffs.

"You are not fine," she retorts, "look at you!"

"It's going to take a few tests, just to make sure you don't have any internal bleeding and an x-rays of both your arm and shoulder before you can even begin to say you're fine or even okay."

Seeing she was done with her rant, he begins to get up, but her two soft hands against his bare chest stop him.

She speaks softly but with authority, "Don't. You're riding today."

"But, mom!" He whines and rolls his eyes.

But he gives her a gentile nod and he watches her hips swing as she struts out.

He waits as she retrieves a wheelchair, lost in the emotions caused by her lingering touch.

He shivers, and draws his t-shirt around himself, missing the warmth of her hands.

* * *

The wheelchair ride down to Radiology was done mostly in silence…almost.

"So are you going to put those "do me" pumps to good use Doctor Cuddy and get me a free ticket to the straight of the line?" House smirks.

Cuddy snorts, "You better be grateful I'm not rolling you to the morgue…" she stops abruptly, House twists to look at her, "Keep talking, I'll still make you do your clinic hours you've skipped out on this week."

One doctor watches the scene and has nerve enough to ask House, "So, Dr. Cuddy finally beat you for skipping out on your clinic hours?" The man smirks, but House and Cuddy give him a Mind your own damn business look.

Cuddy must have sent him a death glare also because the rude doctor shuts up and walks off pretty fast. This makes House happy.

"Way to go boss lady, didn't know I wasn't the only one you got bitchy with."

Cuddy just rolls her eyes, and starts pushing him faster down the hall, "If you only knew."

* * *

"It's definitely broken," Cuddy holds up the x-ray to the light, "the only good thing though is it appears just a fracture."

"Gooood," House draws out, waiting for the inevitable 'but'.

"But, it'll have to be in a sling for a few days to let the swelling go down, then we'll put it in a cast."

"Darn." Was House's unenthusiastic reply.

Cuddy laughs.

"Oh, so you take pleasure in my pain?"

"Come on," Cuddy wraps the warmed blanket around him, "let me take care of poor little Greggy."

"Oh, patronize the cripple, nice…" His sarcastic snark is back.

* * *

Cuddy wheels him back to the exam room where she splints his wrist and helps him into his sling.

Once she was done, she stops and just looks at him.

House who had been resting his eyes during most of the procedure didn't open them but asks her, "Like what you see?" A small smirk lights up his face, looking out of place against his taunt, pale skin.

Cuddy goes over to the medicine cart, fingers gliding over the buttons, its beeps and she opens it.

Curious, House opens his eyes, eyeing Cuddy as she pulls out a pre-filled syringe of Demerol.

His eyes questions hers, her only response is, "Don't tell me you don't want it?"

He lifts up his healthy right arm, the action silently telling her yes.

"It'll go better in a large muscle."

"Oh, you just want to see the whole package, ooh, naughty doctor..." House smirks, pushing her limits.

"Drop 'em right now and we'll see how naughty I can be." Cuddy rises up to the challenge, giving him a smile that would undo him right then and there.

The smirk is wiped off his face but he fumbles for his belt buckle, he hesitates, knowing he can't do it by himself, with one hand impaired in a sling.

Cuddy watches this, and taunts, "Let mommy help," and reaches for him.

Cuddy undoes his belt, then his pants with practiced, skilled hands.

House turns himself onto his right side and eases himself up enough so she can slide his pants down below his hips.

Cuddy quickly covers her eyes.

House worried asks, "What?"

She giggles, "Nothing," and pretends to shade her eyes, "Just blinded by the light."

She begins cleaning the area with an alcohol pad.

House snorts, "Don't get much sun down there…although… I know this great beach where we can…"

"Ow!"

House breaks off as the needle hits its mark as Cuddy injects the pain medicine.

"Oh, did _I_ hurt _you_?" She baby talks to him as she chunks the used needle into the sharps container.

"_Gezz, Woman_!" House yells, helpless even to cover himself up.

She grabs his boxer and jeans and pulls them up for him, she's inches from his face.

"You know you love it." She smirks.

He grins, busted. She can see his eyes glaze over already, the drug taking effect.

She waits a few minutes, watching as House visibly relaxes, breathing a bit easier.

She doesn't quite catch it but she hears House's sleepy, pain-free, "_Thank you…"_

She smiles, "_You're welcome_."

She means it.

"Come on."

She helps ease him up off the table and she supports him as they walk to her office.

Laying him down on her couch, she tucks a blanket around him, "Sleep tight Dr. _Keneval_, and maybe tonight we'll try some tricks you won't need your bike for."

He drifts off with a brilliant smile upon his face.

* * *

Lisa Cuddy watches over her man as he sleeps the rest of the day on her couch with a smile on her face.

Happy he trusts her and thankful he is still alive.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Swinging through her office doors at the end of the day, Lisa Cuddy smiles at the man laid out in front of her.

Face peaceful in sleep, Gregory House snores softly, injured arm cradled against his chest, warm hospital blanket draped across his tall frame.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, Cuddy runs her fingers through his hair before planting a soft kiss to his brow.

He groans.

She quickly withdrawals her hand, thinking she's caused him pain.

He peaks one eye open, "Why 'd yah stop?"

He grins.

She smacks him in the chest.

This time he groans for real.

"_Ow_, woman! Injured man here." He brings his hand up to rub his bruised chest.

"You won't some cheese with that _whine_?" Cuddy giggles.

House laughs, "As a matter of fact, I do."

House watches Cuddy as she pulls something out of her lab coat.

"Here," she hands him a red lollipop, "for being such a good _little_ patient."

House takes it, "Well I am a big boy."

"Oh, is that why you've nicknamed it '_Little_ Greg'? Cuddy laughs.

"Care to find out?" House cocks a grin, then looks at the wrapped lollipop in his hand and sticks it out to Cuddy.

"Care for a lick?

Cuddy wraps her hand around his and bites off the plastic wrapper.

She then takes a lick, leaving House speechless.

"_Wow, _woman." He grins.

She grins at his reaction and let goes of his hand.

He puts his lollipop in his mouth and smiles, "So now Dr. Cuddy, just what do you have in mind, seducing your patient?

"Well, since you've spent all day _sleeping_ on _my couch_… I figure you don't want to go straight home to _bed_…"

She shoves his lollipop back into his mouth, effectively shutting him up before he can disagree.

"So… I was thinking dinner sounds nice…what do you think?"

She asks and then grasps him by his uninjured right hand and pulls him into a sitting position.

Watching him close his eyes, breathing through his mouth, Cuddy's face expresses her concern.

She tenderly places her hands on the sides of his head.

"Do you really feel that bad?... We could just go home…"

He opens his eyes, "No…I'm okay… Just been lying down too long… Where do you wanna go?"

Cuddy doesn't say anything but watches as he starts patting his pockets.

He finally realizes she hasn't said anything and looks up, giving up his search for his Vicodin for the moment.

She asks, "What did I tell you in the clinic?"

He looks at her blankly.

She continues, "I will always worry about you and lying to me and telling me you feel okay is just going to make me worry more, so save me some gray hairs and tell me how you really feel…"

He concedes, "My whole left side feels like I skydived into concrete… happy now?"

Rolling her eyes she tells him, "At least you're _honest,_" and then pulls out another treat from her pocket and rattles it in front of him.

He cocks his head questioning her.

She pops the top and tips out two white pills into his awaiting hand, which he immediately downs.

She then recaps the container and sticks it in his pants pocket.

She's inches from his face and she can feel his eyes boring into hers.

Her proximity is intoxicating him.

He leans forward, closing the space between them.

Breaking the kiss, he whispers, "Thank you, Lisa".

She smiles, pulling away, "You're welcome... Now, let's eat."

* * *

"We must look a sight," House complains, readjusting the shoulder strap of his sling for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

Cuddy supports him with one hand on his back and his cane in the other.

"I just hate not being able to hold your hand," Cuddy pouts then winks at him, letting him know she's just playing.

Fixing his sling as comfortable as it'll get, he slings his good arm across Cuddy's shoulders, smiling.

"How's this?" He grins.

"Perfect." Haha.

They walk the remaining feet to the restaurant and wait to be waited on.

Sitting down at the table, the young waiter gestures to House's arm and asks him how he broke it.

House reaches his hand across the table and grasps Cuddy's and boldly states, "She likes it rough."

The look on the young's man face sends both House and Cuddy into a fit of laughter.

House clutches his chest, breathes through the pain, a smile still plastered on his face.

_Will if he's still laughing, he's alright._ Cuddy reasons.

She turns her attention back to the waiter who has overcome his shock and begins speaking.

"I broke my wrist once too…" He passes out their drinks and continues, "…You know those spinning stools in doctor's offices?..."

House and Cuddy share a look and grin, the waiter is oblivious to their inside joke.

"…Well, I had a spin-out, cracked my wrist just as the doctor walked through the door."

Cuddy speaks, eyes not leaving House's face, "I'm sure the doc loved that."

The waiter frowns, "I don't think she was too shocked about my wrist, she was blushing too hard from the sight of me naked on her floor… see my hospital gown had got caught in the wheels…"

"Alright!" House almost hits the waiter in the face with his menu, "I'll take the Rueben with no pickles, and fries. The lady will have…" He gestures to Cuddy.

She gives her menu a quick once over and orders her usual grilled chicken salad.

The waiter gathers the menus and departs.

"Excuse me a moment," House pushes his chair back from the table and rises a bit shakily.

Teasingly, Cuddy asks, "_Need mommy to help_?"

"_Haha_. _Oh_, mommy can help _anytime_ she wants," He winks and makes his way to the men's room alone.

* * *

_A few minutes later…_

It had been easy to unzip his zipper and unbutton his pants with just one hand.

However, several tries later, House was finding it hard to button his pants singlehandedly.

"Shit."

Fingers failing to button his pants, House just stands for a moment to think.

Propping himself up against the wall, he pulls out his cell phone.

_No signal._

He tries sending a text.

That worked.

Cuddy sits at their table, the waiter has just brought there food when her phone beeps.

Digging through her purse, she finds it and opens the new text message.

_Care for a quickie in the stall? No, really, come, I need you. -H_

_He better hope he's not joking around_… Cuddy thinks as she waves the waiter over and tells him she'll be back in a few minutes… then confidently walks into the men's restroom.

She carefully peers around the corner and her eyes land on a peculiar sight and she busts out giggling.

"Ooh, so you think this is funny?" House whines, still holding his pants up with one hand.

Trying to put on a calm face, Cuddy tells him, "No.." her calm façade doesn't last long until she's rolling in laughter again, "..I..I don't think its funny…it's _hilariou_s."

"_Humpf!"_

"Oh, hush…" Cuddy steps up to him and man handles his hips until he's turned completely toward her.

She pulls up his pants a little and swiftly buttons his pants.

Then she hooks his belt and pulls him toward her but then…

_*Whistle!*_

_*Shriek!*_

Now, it's House's turn to laugh as Cuddy freaks out when another man walks into the restroom.

House washes his hand and then the couple swiftly move to the bathroom's exit but not before House puts in a few words.

"She's very demanding," House winks at the man.

The man chuckles, "Lucky man."

* * *

Outside in the hallway, Cuddy is quietly fuming, but more overcome with embarrassment than anything as people stare at her coming out of the men's bathroom with House in tow.

She speeds up her walking.

House catches her as she stops, getting a piece of tissue paper off her high heel.

"Let me go," she growls.

He just wraps his one good arm around her more tightly.

"Lisa…Lisa stop."

She stops fighting him and he lets go even though she could have broken free of his grasp at anytime.

"What House?" She asks letting her annoyance show through.

"Nothing."

She sighs deeply and turns to go back to her seat.

He reaches out and she turns back around and softly this time, already forgiven him for his antics and asks, "What?"

He gives her that tiny crooked smile that makes her weak in the knees, "Just wanted to say thanks."

"Sure," she smiles and follows him to their table.

Sitting down she unfolds her napkin and prepares to eat her salad.

She looks up when she hears House hit his chair before she watches as he slides to the floor.

Jumping up she sends her silverware clattering against her plate, flying to his side.

He lies there, blinking up at her.

She whispers, "You okay?"

"Eyes blurry, dizzy…give me a moment," he rattles off his symptoms to her, before catching a glimpse up her skirt.

She catches him looking and is about to yell at him but the waiter and manager is hurriedly making their way over.

"Sir, are you all right?" The manager asks, worried about a law suit no doubt.

"Yeah, but you might want lay off the wax on these floors… before someone really gets hurt," House grunts as he slowly makes his way up finding it hard with two impaired limbs.

"Yes, sir, my apologies," the manager states as he hands House his fallen cane, "is there anything else I can do for you, _mister_…?"

"_Doctor_… Doctor House," House states, authority oozing from his words.

"Doctor House, my sincerest apologies and Mrs. House... I will take care of your bill."

"_Well_…" House starts.

But Cuddy interrupts him and sweetly tells the manager, "Thank you."

Once the two men are gone, Cuddy turns her attention to House who is as white as sheet.

"Let me see your hand… your right hand." He obliges.

She takes his hand into her own, its slightly trembling and clammy.

She places her fingers on the inside of his wrist and counted his pulse.

House watches her as she keeps a hold of his hand but rambles through her pocket book until she pulls out a little black bag.

He sighs.

She swabs his finger then pricks it.

"Ow." He wines.

She smiles.

"Wow. Your blood glucose is 57," Cuddy states.

"I don't doubt it," House comments.

She cleans his finger and returns the hand to its owner.

House picks up his Rueben and takes a bite.

Cuddy watches him, "You feel okay?"

"I'll be alright after I eat," then he laughs, happy with himself for getting a free meal out of the situation.

A situation caused by his poor eating habits and not the restaurants clean waxed floor.

"You are … something." Cuddy laughs.

House smirks.

He was going to be all right, Cuddy was there to take care of her man.

And there was no stopping her as she leans across the table and wipes the mustard off the corner of his mouth.

Then sticking it in her mouth, finger lingering playfully over her lips.

"Have mercy," House cries, her seduction overwhelming him.

* * *

Turning the blasting music down on her car radio, she catches a glimpse at her snoozing companion.

He looked much better now that he had some food in him but he was still worn out, his body trying to heal itself.

Pulling into her garage, she hates to have to wake him.

She walks over to his side and opens his door.

"House… _Greg_… Wake up…"

"_Ugh…"_ Was the only reply she got.

"Come on…"

With him leaning on her, Cuddy makes her way to the bedroom where they both plop down.

Resting for a moment, just breathing, Cuddy thinks what a day it has been.

She's broken out of her thoughts when House moans in his sleep.

"Shhh…. It's okay…Shhh…" She soothes and moves to cuddle him when she realizes she is pressed up against his bruised side.

"Oh, shit." She quickly moves off of him, and whispers, "I'm sorry, so sorry, shh…" running her fingers through his hair he calms down instantly.

"_It's s'okay…" _He mumbles into her chest.

She moves to get up.

He blindly reaches out and catches her hand.

"Hey… I'm not going anywhere, just getting some night clothes, I'll be right back."

After slipping into a silk night gown, she swiftly strips House to his t-shirt and boxers and gently nudges him until he's under the covers.

Snuggled comfortably under the cool sheets, Cuddy whispers to House, "Tomorrow, you're getting up early and we're both taking my car to work…"

"…zZZzzZZzzz…" Is the only verbal reply she receives from House.

But, she can feel his smile on the back of her neck.

She would always be his true morning rush.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lying in bed, House smiles a tight smile at the sight of Lisa Cuddy draped across his chest. He runs his fingers through her dark hair before he gently frees himself out from under her.

Sitting up carefully, he lays his bandaged left arm in his lap, and gently touches his swollen fingers marveling at the bruising and swelling. Definitely not going to be playing the piano, guitar, or anything else for that matter anytime soon.

He tenses against the coming pain before heaving himself up onto his feet.

He sways, breathing through his mouth he breathes through the agony of the movement, the constant ache in his thigh, the stiffness of his bruised, battered body and the pain of broken bones.

Shuffling slowly, his limp more pronounced than usual as he carefully makes his way to the bathroom. He starts running the tap and splashes his face with one hand, cool water dripping off his feverish forehead. He glances up in the mirror and is shocked by the man in the mirror.

In the mirror he can see the left side of his face is tinged in colors of blue-purple, yellow-green, he lifts up his t-shirt and sees the blues and black painted across his torso. He might as well have been one giant bruise.

Feeling a bit lightheaded, the room turns hot, House eases himself down onto Cuddy's dressing stool. He doesn't sit long before a wave of nausea has him stumbling to the toilet. Grasping the side of the toilet, he retches. Gastric juices and bile burning his nose and throat, tears slip down his face against his permission.

The noise coming from her bathroom quickly rouses Cuddy and House can hear her tiny feet padding against the hard wood floors as she makes her way to him.

He groans as he feels his stomach clench before he's throwing up again in the toilet, this time Cuddy's there rubbing his back trying her best to soothe him. He continues dry heaving until he comes up gasping for air, panting, tired from the exertion.

Cuddy jumps up and grabs a towel quickly damping it in cool water and draping it across his neck and shoulders before grabbing a wash cloth, doing the same and giving it to him so he can wipe his mouth.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Cuddy's worried voice carefully asks him.

He whines, "It just…hurts… everything, _hurts_…"

He closes his eyes as he tries to fight off another bout of nausea, he continues talking, willing it to take his mind off the urge to vomit.

"…Injuries cause pain, pain causes nausea, nausea causes vomiting, vomiting means no pain relief, _arghh_…" he groans and spills another ounce of fluid into the toilet water.

"…I can't keep anything down," he states pitifully.

"Okay…" Cuddy whispers, not sure how to react to him when he's like this, she's not used to him yelling at her, at least not this way. So she just watches him, silently… until she notices his eyes.

Slowly she reaches out to him and cups his cheek in her hand, "House, open your eyes again…" She says it so softly it catches his attention and he stares up at her, eyes piercing her soul.

Her heart races, House can hear her breathing, "_What_?..."

"House… Greg… you're jaundiced."

He looks away from her, his mind reeling.

"I've got to get you to the hospital." Cuddy frantically states, rushing around the room, gathering fresh clothes for both of them to wear.

She stops in front of him, placing her hands on his face, making him look at her.

She whispers, "It's going to be alright." She gives him a sad smile, trying to be hopeful.

"You don't know that," he tells her honestly, the gravity of this new symptom weighing on him, sapping him of his previous anger, and leaving him feeling tired, worn… weak.

"Come on," she urges him, helping him get cleaned and dressed.

* * *

The ride to the hospital is mostly done in silence.

Cuddy glides her car into her spot and looks over at House who has his arm propped against the window, looking pale and miserable.

"Ready to do this?" She questions him.

He opens his door and steps out a bit shakily but manages to match Cuddy step for step as he walks the hardest path he's had to walk since his infarction, knowing as he knew then, that something is terribly wrong.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Stripped of his clothes and what seemed to be left of his dignity, House lays on a hospital bed in the ER. Clad in only a regulation gown and a warm sheet, he waits for Cuddy to return after she officially admits him.

Feeling tired, and overwhelmed, he doesn't put up much of a fight as a nurse inserts an IV into his hand. She smiles tenderly down at her patient. _She must be new_, House thinks. And he closes his eyes as she walks away.

Moving his arm to cover his eyes, he winces. Feeling trapped with one mangled thigh, fractured wrist, and now his good hand, his cane hand with a needle stuck in it.

_Just great_, he thinks, _Might as well just kill me now, and save my liver the trouble_.

The curtain is yanked open as Cuddy comes to stand beside him, startling House, making him jump. Surprised that he had fallen asleep, House looks around disoriented before his gaze lands on Cuddy.

She watches him as he recognizes her and relaxes, laying his head back down into the pillow.

She stares at him for a few minutes, face slightly blank with a hint of apology written across it.

"What?" He asks, voice rough.

She cocks an eyebrow at his brashness, but carries on, the administer… no, the doctor side of her shining brightly through.

"I've got a few things that require my attention here, however I will be up to see you when I can," she pauses, gauging his reaction.

He mutters a disdainful, "_Fine_."

Her face softens when she sees a hint of sadness creep out of his façade. She reaches and grabs his hand, rubbing softly trying to soothe him but careful of the IV.

"I promise…" she starts, he looks away.

"Hey, look at me," she carefully demands, only continuing when she sees his beautiful blue eyes turn to her crystal blue ones.

"I promise I will be there, by your side as soon as I can, not a moment later, okay?"

She watches as he slowly nods his head.

"Okay." She nods, slipping back into doctor mode.

"I've ordered you fluids as you've already figured out," she gestures to the bag of fluid and tubing carrying precious substances to his bruised and dehydrated body.

"I've also ordered a liver panel," she notices his face contort slightly, "…to see how much damage has been done… they'll be moving you into a room within the hour, I'll see you a little later."

She leans down and plants a soft kiss to his damp forehead and pulls away.

He catches her hand. She turns. He stares at the wall, not looking at her, just holds her hand.

"_Lisa_…" he whispers softly.

She smiles.

"_I know Greg_… _I love you too_."

_And I'm scared too. _She thinks as she walks away. Wiping the stray tear away before it can ruin her makeup, she puts up her own façade and gets down to business.

* * *

_A few hours later…_

House sits up, reclined in the hospital bed, broken left arm bandaged and laying limp on a pillow, his IV hostage right hand aimlessly flips through the TV channels, emesis basin sitting on the nightstand empty.

Not having vomited in over two hours tells him he's not as bad off as he originally thought. It was definitely a good sign. But he could be wrong, he has been before. _Just a sprain_. His thoughts mock him. He shakes his head, clearing his mind of the memories from his infraction.

He glances up at the clock, then at his open door, peering out into the hall. Cuddy had gotten a page at least forty minutes ago. His test results are in. And House is anxious for her to return but not for the diagnosis she might be bringing.

Hearing the click of her high heels on the tiled floor, House hits the button on the bed rail, and raises his bed up even more so he can spot her as she walks into the room.

_She's smiling_, he thinks. But he doesn't want to get his hopes up.

For once in his life he's waiting patiently for the news that could cut his life short.

He's yanked out of his emotional ravine when the room is filled with laughter, a few giggles, and a file is slapped to his chest.

He jerks his head up at Cuddy's apparent humor, horror fillling him for a second as he thinks she's gone insane or either he has. Laughter is not an acceptable behavior when someone is dying!

He flips the file open as best he can with one working hand, skimming the numbers and words on the pages.

He nearly faints.

The beeping of his heart monitor is telling him he's still kicking but he can't hear anything as he mentally reads to himself his test results.

He lets the file flop to the floor as he looks up to Cuddy who is now silent, smiling with her whole body as she looks down at him.

"I always knew you were a big baby." She laughs at him.

Still in a daze, he blankly asks, "What?"

Not sure he was hearing her correctly, he ponders, _Surely there's been some mistake, these can't be my test results, not with all the alcohol and Vicodin I've poisoned my liver with._

Cuddy laughs at his unbelief.

She decides to put his diagnostic skills to test, maybe that will help him believe.

"When babies are born, what is the number one cause for the symptom of jaundice?"

House sputters, "I don't see what this has to do-"

She cuts him off and asks him again, stepping closer to him, "Why are newborn babies sometimes jaundice? House, come on, you _know_ this."

He automatically answers, "Because the trauma of birth bruises them, kills red blood cells, damaged red blood cells leak bilirubin, bilirubin is a yellow pigment, turns baby yellow because baby's tiny liver can't handle all of it, baby turns jaundice but it goes away in a few weeks."

Cuddy smiles, "Exactly."

"But-" House starts, then his face crinkles in thought, he whips his head around to look at her.

"The amount of damage caused by your _lifestyle…_ has damaged your liver," she pauses, letting the accusation sink it, "however, it's not enough to put you into liver failure…_yet_."

House lets her words wash over him, he had already gathered that information from his file, but he knew Cuddy was trying to teach him a lesson from all this. Truth be told, this really has scared him… rattled him.

He comes out of his thoughts as Cuddy finishes explaining.

"Well with the damage that has been done to your liver, it couldn't handle all toxins from the trauma you've suffered-"

"I'm fine, it's not that bad," House interrupts.

"You are a walking bruise," Cuddy retorts. And House has to give that point to her, after what he saw in the mirror early this morning, she was right, he did look terrible.

"Good." He states eventually, pulls the covers back, and slowly swings his legs off to the side.

"Hey, don't you think you should at least rest the rest of the evening?" Cuddy asks, watching as he pulls out his own IV. She relents, grabbing a piece of gauze and tape for him.

Bandaging him up, she just rolls her eyes when he tells her, "Hey, I'm a doctor too, and I can _rest_," he wiggles his eyebrows seductively, "better at home than I can in this…" Cuddy holds her breath warning him against saying anything about her baby, her hospital. House grins, standing up carefully, pulling her to him with one arm, "wonderful hospital."

She laughs as he lets go and walks to the bathroom, the split in his gown showing his pale backside. She lets out a wolf whistle, causing a blush to spread across House's face that she couldn't see.

He peels off the gown before closing the bathroom door. The door doesn't close fast enough and Cuddy catches sight of his abused back and shoulder. The sight takes her breath away as she gasps at the angry looking bruises.

She gingerly sits down on the bed he just vacated and looks out the window pondering how lucky they both are. _I almost lost him again. _Knowing it does her no good to think about what could have happened to him falling off that motorcycle, she busies herself and her mind by gathering his things when she hears a loud bang followed by a whimper coming from the bathroom.

Quickly swinging the door open, Cuddy's heart clenches at the sight in front of her. House's shoulders are heaving, his panting harsh to her ears, accompanied with the soft whimpers escaping through his clenched teeth. He's curled on the floor, grasping his fractured left wrist, the bandages turning a bright ruby as blood seeps through them, covering his fingers, spilling drops onto the floor.

Panic threatening to overpower her, Cuddy comes to her senses and shouts, "Need HELP in here STAT!"

She lands on her knees at his side, gently holding onto his shoulders as she pulls him into her lap. She brushes a hand across his face as the hot, salty tears spill from his eyes.

"_Shhhh_… It's okay, I've got you."

The sweet sentiment is the last thing House hears as blissful unconsciousness drags him under.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Several hours later…_

Gripping her coffee cup, Lisa Cuddy's fingers tremble as she sips her coffee. She relishes the hot liquid cascading down her raw throat. It has been a long, spirit draining day.

Glancing at her watch she ponders what's taking so long. House has been out of surgery for a while, and she should be getting a page from Recovery about his status very soon.

Sighing, she sits back, leaning her head against the wall, closing her eyes, just resting them.

* * *

_One hour later…_

_He does look better_, she thinks to herself as she takes in his face, smoothed, content in sleep.

Watching him sleep peacefully, Cuddy gets up and stands beside the window, watching the lights across the campus flicker in the night. She turns at the sound of a soft knock on the door.

"Hi. James." She whispers.

"Lisa." Wilson replies as he enters and takes a seat beside Cuddy, handing her a fresh cup of coffee. Sitting down House's back pack filled with fresh clothes for both House and Cuddy on the floor, he turns and looks at House.

"How is he?" He asks her softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping man.

"He's doing better. Surgery went well. He'll be in a cast for several weeks." She pauses, and takes a breath.

"He should sleep through the night." She sighs and drops into the seat beside Wilson.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do with him." She tells Wilson, shaking her head, smiling to herself, as she takes the top of her coffee off, sipping it slowly.

Wilson chuckles softly. "I know the feeling."

She smiles softly and reaches her hand out and pulls the blanket snuggly around House before making herself comfortable for the night.

* * *

_Very early morning..._

A soft, painful cry escapes House's lips as he sucks an intake of breathe through his teeth. His face contorts into a grimace, eyes still closed, caught somewhere between drug induced dreams and the land of waking.

His fingers subconsciously grip the blanket, as he writhes in discomfort, feeling the soreness throughout his body. He aches all over with a dull aching sensation radiating from his wrist adding to the general feeling of malaise.

Lying still, he makes himself relax, and he slowly pries his eyes open, glad to see all the lights were dimmed in his room. He breathes a sigh of relief knowing he wouldn't have to deal with anyone, as most of the people were still asleep, seeing that it was it night or early morning.

He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, noticing the still swollen fingers, feeling the pain from his movement; it was a dull ache and not the sharp stabbing sensation from his fall early in the day.

_Good, surgery must have gone well_, He thinks sarcastically, and shakes his head at his unusual situation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a white blanket. Turning his head slowly, he feels the scratch of his beard against the cool pillow as he smiles at the sleeping woman.

Feeling comfortable, safe, relaxed… with her so near, lulls him back to sleep, sweet dreams of her playing through his mind.

* * *

_Late__ morning…_

"Good morning sunshine." Cuddy greets a groggy House as he slowly wakes up, eyes blinking dazedly.

"Rise and shine," she tells him as she draws open the blinds, letting in the summer sunshine, the warm yellow filling the room.

"_Morning_," he tells her lazily, and closes his eyes, trying to go back to sleep, undeterred against her morning cheerfulness.

"How are you feeling?" She moves close to him, leaning against the bed rail.

"Fine," he says honestly, the few hours of sleep doing him good. His body ached, but a hot shower would help and he knew just the person to join him. He stares at her, a content smile turning up his lips.

_She must have gone to her office at some point because she was dressed in one of her blouses and skirts,_ he reasons to himself. Her hair and make-up makes her look like an angel to him with her standing there, the light catching in her hair.

"Come on," she says, batting her eyelashes at him, giving him a pleading smile. He carefully sits up, wondering what she is up to.

"What time is it?" He asks, running his hand across his face, still trying to wake up.

"Time for you to wake up finally." She tells him and moves closer to the bed.

Cuddy lowers the bed rail and gently sits on the bed beside him. The movement sends a hint of her perfume his way, he instantly brightens up and he looks up at her, smiling at the lovely view in front of him.

Cuddy plays with his bed head hair as she gives him a proposition, giving him a taunting view down her blouse.

"You can go home with me today…" She baits him. "If you promise to be on your best behavior, and do what the doctor orders," she whispers to him, pulling his eyes away from her chest by guiding his chin with her finger to look her in the eyes.

She watches as his sleepy eyes brighten at the sound of freedom.

She giggles, "On one condition…"

"Okay," he agrees huskily, too tired to even ask what he is getting himself into.

She smiles. "Good."

She quickly jumps up, and off the bed, digging through his back pack for the fresh clothes she had Wilson bring for her.

Gently she pulls his covers back, and begins to help him dress.

House has trouble getting even one word in as Cuddy tugs and pulls his t-shirt over his head and arm, which is now three times its normal size thanks to all the gauze and bandages protecting it since the surgery.

"There." She says, as she pats the wrinkles out of his shirt softly, her fingers lingering over his chest.

"_Okayyy_…" He says, pleasantly leaning into her touch.

"So what's the catch?" He asks her, as she's bent down on the floor, putting on his tennis shoes for him.

She just smiles patting his shoe as she finishes tying the strings. She stands, and waves over the nurse with the wheelchair.

* * *

_One hour later…._

House and Cuddy are walking out of the hospitals entrance on their way home. House is moving a little slower than when he entered. Cuddy's arm is draped across his lower back, making them look like the couple the are. House's backpack is slung across her delicate shoulders along with her purse.

Cuddy's got a smile on her face. House is pouting, but is still in good spirits. Escaping the clutches of the nurses and the hospital making him much happier. Not to mention the energy radiating from Cuddy. Her hand on his back is tingling his senses, making him feel good in all the right spots.

Opening the car door for him, Cuddy hangs above him and watches him as he carefully lowers himself into the seat.

He stares attentively at the new hard plaster cast adorning his arm, not bothering to put on his seat belt.

He looks up at her staring at him. She rolls her eyes and leans in, and swiftly pulls and snaps his seat belt for him. Leaning up she smiles at her quick handiwork.

"Oh, you're enjoying this aren't you?" House whines, but with a small smile upon his lips.

She smiles, slams the door closed in reply and happily walks over to the driver's side.

Cranking up her car, she backs out and pulls onto the street.

"So," she says cheerfully, "If you're a good boy, mommy will buy you a happy meal."

He laughs, scoffing in response, and tells her seductively, "Only if you'll be my _toy_."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" She grins teasingly, readjusting her skirt as she drives.

House smiles deviously as her simple act of seduction turns him own.

He looks down at the color of his cast, making a face, "Seriously though, _baby boy blue_?"

Cuddy bursts into a fit of giggles, reaches over, never taking her eyes off the road and intertwines her fingers with his swollen ones sticking out of his light blue colored cast.

She graces him with a glance and gives him a charming smile.

Her voice turns serious as she whispers, "_It's the least you could do… after scaring me so badly_."

"_I'm sorry..._" he whispers to her.

She smiles sadly, knowing he's telling her the truth.

Trying to lighten the mood, the lets out a small laugh.

"It brings out the color of your eyes." She tells him sweetly.

He chuckles and turns to meet her eyes, the fire burning in them sends pleasant shivers down his spine.

"Let's go home." She whispers seductively, giving him a smile that warms his heart.

"To bed _Doctor_ Cuddy?" He asks gleefully.

"To bed _Doctor_ House." She agrees, bringing his hand to her lips, licking one of his swollen fingers, sucking it, before planting a swift kiss to the tip of it.

She giggles at his reaction as he bits his lip.

"_Have mer-cey!_" He cries.

"Just what the doctor ordered." She smiles.

* * *

She's all he's ever needed. She's all he's ever wanted. She makes him smile. She makes him laugh. But most of all, she makes him feel loved. And he loves her for it.

* * *

_**The End.**_


End file.
